


The Necromerchant's Debt

by pasdesujet



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Multi, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-03-16
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:30:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasdesujet/pseuds/pasdesujet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-Opera. The Graverobber runs into an old colleague, who's harbouring a few more secrets than the last time they met. Originally published on FanFiction.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Necromerchant

_Now._

_June 2057._

Graverobber had thought that he was alone in the graveyard, so the sound of someone else's' footsteps startled him. His immediate thought was that one of Rotti's goons had finally tracked him down. Not in the mood to get arrested, his eyes fell upon an open, empty grave. He jumped down silently as the footsteps drew closer. From his position inside the grave, he watched the figure walk towards his hiding place. It stopped about a foot away from the edge of the grave and looked around. He took his chance, reaching up to grab it's ankle. And then he pulled. Hard.

He was surprised when the figure let out a distinctly female cry as it fell to the ground. So, he could rule out a Repo Man, but this was no GENtern or Henchgirl either, nor was it a Zydrate whore or scalpel slut out for her latest fix, which left him confused. That is, until the woman looked up at him furiously.

" _Necro_?" He breathed.

" _Hell_ , Graverobber." She snarled as he helped her to her feet. "I know we need to be on our guard, but was that _really_ necessary?"

"Sorry, but you should know better than to sneak up on me." He chided her.

Her expression softened instantly. "It's good to see you, Graverobber, really it is."

"I hadn't heard about you in a while." He tried to retain his usual air of indifference. "I thought maybe you'd been -"

"Have a _little_ faith in me? I mean, I did learn from the best." She smiled.

He chuckled, looking at her properly. Obviously the first thing that stood out was the handful of Zydrate vials hanging from one of her belts. She wore a long, black trench coat - it had faded a lot since she'd first bought it, thanks to the polluted environment and the work they did. She wore black leather boots - an expensive thing in these times - that came to just below her knees over old, scruffy jeans. Around her neck there hung four necklaces: two crucifixes, a black leather choker and a pendant he'd never really paid that much attention to. Those, along with the boots, were the only things that hinted at the life she's had before this. On one hand she wore a glove like his, with the other tucked between the two belts around her waist. As she moved her coat to put a hand on her hip, he saw that attached to the second belt was a scalpel along with a few other surgical instruments. Her messy black hair fell to just above her shoulders with purple, red and blue dreads threaded through it. Her face was pale, like his, from both make-up and the nocturnal aspects of the job, and her brown eyes were heavily outlined in smudged black - although it was difficult to tell whether simply from make-up or if sheer lack of sleep had something to do with it - and her lips were painted a purplish-red. He noticed that she looked even more dishevelled than she usually did.

"Rough night?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Try rough _month_." She sighed. "GeneCo's on a complete _rampage_ , but you knew that. And Bill 98-463 isn't helping."

"That's still going on?" His eyes widened slightly, and he was annoyed that he even had to ask. He should have know this already.

"Have you been living under a rock?" She exclaimed. "I mean, y'know, as opposed to the usual dumpster?"

"I know, I know. But I'm trying to keep out of that as much as I can at the moment - I'm not exactly Rotti Largo's favourite person in town, am I?" Graverobber pointed out, grabbing the first excuse he though of. Inside, he was screaming at himself. _I'm always the first to know! Not knowing that could've gotten me in serious trouble. I'm such a fucking idiot._

"I must be coming in a close second." She muttered, not quite loud enough for him to hear. "Well we've lived with GeneCo since '030, surely we can put up with them until Rotti dies and the others kill each other in an attempt to gain control of the company."

That made him laugh. "Ever the optimist, aren't you?"

"Of course. That's why I'm such good company." She teased. "Now, I know it's our natural habitat and all. but if you're done collecting for the night maybe we could get the hell out of here?"

He looked over at the grave he had been about to open when she'd interrupted him, then looked back at her. "I'm done." He decided, with only the barest hint of reluctance in his voice.

She smiled at him, and started to walk towards the street.

He gathered up his equipment and followed her. "So where are you staying now?" He asked her as they zig-zagged through the graves.

"Here and there." Necro shrugged. "Wherever I can find."

"Safe places?"

"Wherever I can find." She repeated slowly, in a tone that told him 'no'.

"Well, that's no good." He shook his head. "Come back with me tonight."

"You really don't -"

"Shut up, Ne. It's not safe out here." He cut her off firmly, and she knew not to try and argue. "Besides, do you actually think I'm letting you out of my sight any time soon?"


	2. The Graverobber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 2055: Another run-in in a graveyard, one that sparks a chain of events.

_Then._

_February 2055._

He'd been watching her from the moment that she'd entered the graveyard - not too closely, though. That wasn't his style. He was merely curious as to why a girl like her was in a place like this. From his current position amongst the cluster of graves that dated back to the pandemics and plagues of '09 and '10, he guessed that she wasn't much older than twenty. He also guessed from her clothing that she was from a pretty well-off family.

One thing he didn't have to guess, however, was that she was running from someone. There was no other reason for a girl like her to be in Churchyard Cemetery after dark - not that day and night were much different these days. Looking away from the girl, he forced the lid off one of the graves and pulled the first body out. There had been so many people killed by the plagues that the graves were more often than not stacked up to five bodies deep. Of course, that was nothing compared to the worldwide devastation caused by Neural Overstimulation Syndrome a few years later. As he threw the plastic-wrapped corpse to the ground he heard the girl's footsteps quicken. It was bad news for him if she was bringing anyone to do with GeneCo near. Out of sheer morbid curiosity, he glanced around to see if any of said biotech company's posters were around. Sure enough, there was one on the side of the tomb situated to his right.

'Graverobbers will be executed on sight.' It informed him. 'By order of GeneCo by-law No. 653-465.'

 _At least its not the one with my picture on . . ._ He thought grimly. _I'd still love to know how they managed to get that._ He tore open the corpse's wrappings. _You can tell times are hard simply from the fact that I'm having to resort to extracting Zydrate from forty-five year old plague corpses. There are loads of more recent bodies with better Z inside them, but they're in all the well-patrolled graveyards. Fucking stupid GeneCo, with their fucking stupid GENcops and their Repo Men . . ._ The stench when he opened the plastic was sickening even to him. _If I didn't need the money this_ really _wouldn't be worth it._

He opened his bag and pulled out a Zyringe, sliding it easily into the body's nasal cavity. It would have been lying to say that the cursed thing still had a nose. As the vial filled up with the glowing blue liquid, he stole another look at the girl. She was a lot closer now, and she wasn't alone. To his dismay, the far side of the graveyard was lit up by the all too familiar searchlights. _If I could go one week without getting chased, that would suit me fine . . ._

He'd barely managed to put his equipment away when he heard a startled gasp from about six foot ahead of him. He cast an idle glance up to confirm his suspicions. The girl was stood in front of him, and she looked absolutely terrified.

 _I wonder, kid, are you more scared of me or those guys following you?_ He stood up, smirking. _Probably me._

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't -" She began, her eyes wide with fear.

"Calm down, kid." He swung his bag across his shoulders, picked the corpse up by its wrappings and threw it back into its grave. "You hiding from those guys?" He inclined his head in the direction of the searchlights. She nodded. He sighed. "Right, follow me." She hesitated, and he gave her a look of annoyance. "You wanna get caught, or d'you want me to help you?"

"Help . . ." She admitted quietly, still scared.

"Then _come on_!" He started off towards the exit with the girl reluctantly following him, but the instant they moved they were blinded by the searchlights.

" _Graverobbers on the premises! I repeat: Graverobbers on the premises! Initiate lockdown!_ " The sirens were going off and the GENcops were yelling to each others. The doors to the mausoleums locked, as did the gates that they had been about to head for.

"Oh _God_ , this can't be happening . . ." The girl bit her lip, desperately looking around for another way out.

"It can and it is." He muttered as he did the same. _I know there's somewhere around here I can sneak out through . . ._ He spotted it as the GENcops drew closer. "This way, kid!"

He grabbed her arm and pulled her over to the wall of the cemetery. He stopped only to kick at the thin wooden board, which covered a large hole in the brickwork that had been made during one of the riots before GeneCo had reared it's ugly head. No one had bothered fixing it up properly, what with the rest of the City ending up in such a total mess.

They ducked through the hole before the GENcops caught up with them, but there was no way they were safe yet. Keeping hold of her arm out of instinct, Graverobber ran through the alleyways until he reached one that he often did business in. It was empty, which could mean only one thing: there was a Zydrate Support Network meeting in session.

 _Probably an emergency one, considering the time. Well, might as well wait around and see if I can turn any more ex-addicts away from the straight and narrow._ He moved across to one of the dumpsters and leant against it. The girl stayed where she was, looking around her warily.

"Thank you." She looked at him, but didn't meet his eyes as she spoke.

"We were both being chased," He shrugged. "You coming with me made sense."

She was silent.

"Just out of curiosity, kid, why were they following you?"

"That's a _long_ story." She sighed.

"I'm not going anywhere."


	3. Authority

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June 2057: Falling back into old habits is the easiest thing in the world . . .

_Now._

_June 2057._

"Where are we going?" Necro asked as they snuck along a back alley.

"There's an abandoned apartment about two blocks from here." He explained, somewhat shortly.

" _Wait_!" She grabbed his arm to stop him as one of GeneCo's disposal vans ran along the street ahead of them.

"Looks like the Night Surgeon's been doing his rounds . . ." He muttered, with more than a hint of distaste in his voice. "C'mon." He twisted his hand so that he was holding on to her, and not the other way around.

"What?" She frowned, trying to read his expression. To his credit, he was always pretty difficult to figure out. She only managed it every now and again.

"Didn't we outrun a disposal van once before . . .?" His voice was low, teasing, and she nodded after a moment's pause.

"Get to the Repo Man's victims before GeneCo can clear them away?"

"You always were a smart one."

"Do you _ever_ change?" She smirked. As he replied, he grinned slyly at her.

"Are you complaining? If we beat them to it we'll get fresh Z without too much work on our part." He sounded vaguely happy at the thought. He didn't need to wait to hear her view on that last comment. He knew she'd do pretty much anything he suggested as long as it wouldn't put them in a situation that would be _too_ difficult to get out of.

They made their way through the winding alleys of the City, sometimes following the sound of the van and sometimes just guessing where it would turn next.

"It's heading for the Estate." He heard her mutter in annoyance.

"No." He shook his head, not believing her. After a second of thinking about it, though, he frowned. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Reckon we can beat them there?" She looked across at him and smiled, deciding to lighten the mood.

"Race you." To her surprise, he played along.

"I would, but I'd hate to lose you in the smoke." He smirked, but noticed that she'd already started walking away from him. "Ugh, you'll regret this Ne." He caught up to her in just a few strides, took hold of her hand again and pulled her along with him.

He heard her laugh quietly, and honoured her with a wolfish grin. Despite their attempts at keeping the mood light, the fact that they were heading towards the Estate was playing on both their minds. Even by their standards it wasn't exactly the nicest part of the City, and they'd had some pretty bad experiences there. _Have you been back there since last time, I wonder? I mean, you disappeared for three months, you could've been anywhere._ He slowed as they reached a fence. _Although, why you'd come back here alone I sure as hell don't know._ He noticed that her smile had faded, and he tried to look reassuring. Emotions weren't really his strongpoint, but he liked to think that Necro knew him well enough to understand what he meant. "You don't have to -"

"Yeah, I do." She cut him off. He wasn't going to argue, for a change. Instead, he gestured for her to climb over the fence. As soon as she was on the other side, he swung himself over.

"Welcome to the Estate." He murmured as he noticed the addicts lining the shadows ahead of them.

"They won't bother us tonight." She informed him quietly, returning his questioning look with a meaningful one. "Think about it."

 _Oh, right. If the Repo Man has been around they're not going to want to draw attention to themselves - no matter how much they want a hit._ Part of him was disappointed. He knew that a lot of his regulars lived around here, and usually they came to him. He might've gotten some extra cash trading around the Estate. _Or I might've gotten one of us killed._ He reasoned with himself.

It wasn't hard to find the first victim. A girl - twenty at the oldest - had had her lungs ripped out of her chest and was now lying stone-cold dead in a pool of her own congealing blood. Graverobber barely noticed. He'd been in the business for so long that all the corpses looked the same as long as he didn't think about it too much. It was slightly harder for Necro to just ignore it, but she managed.

"Ladies first." He offered. Her eyes left the body and met his.

"Nice to see you're still as charming as when I left you." Her tone was good-natured, if more than a little sarcastic. She pulled a Zyringe and a vial from her pocket, and he watched her extract the drug. She still did it in exactly the same way as he'd taught her, which gave him a strange sense of something that may have been pride. As she stood back up, she pocketed her equipment.

"You think there's another one around?"

"Wouldn't be surprised." She shrugged, and they headed deeper into the Estate.

The Estate was located in the Downtown area of the City. It was essentially as low as you could get - so low that even dealers like themselves didn't feel particularly comfortable being there. Aside from the fact that it was just a generally nasty place - who said drug dealers can't have standards? - the Repo Man was often lurking just around the corner. Back when he'd first taught Necro the tricks of the trade, he's expressly forbidden her from coming here on her own.

_We go any deeper in we're gonna risk being next on his list._

Obviously, he'd thought that too soon. They were walking along a dark, empty street - that is, empty except for the black-clad figure that had just turned the corner and was now walking towards them. His blue-lit visor was angled downwards, and he held his left arm up as though he was speaking into the communicator he wore. Cursing under his breath, Graverobber pushed Ne down a pitch-black alley. He followed close behind, pressing her against the wall and standing as far into the shadows as possible so that they wouldn't be seen. It was so dark that they could barely see each other, and the only sound apart from Repo's footsteps was their own panicked breathing.

"Isn't this just a _little bit_ risky?" She asked in a whisper.

"Yeah." He admitted.

"Then again, not like I've not been in riskier situations before." She felt his grip on her arm tighten momentarily.

"That's not something I wish to hear from a girl like you." He murmured, breath ghosting against her skin, either forgetting or choosing to ignore the fact that _he_ was the reason she'd ended up in those situations.

She looked up at him even though she could only make out the faint outline of his features. Despite his uncaring façade when the customers were around, he'd been a good friend to her and she knew he meant what he said. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course. Stuff like that could ruin even as well-crafted a reputation as his.

"You think he's gone?" She glanced back towards the street.

"We can't risk it." He said immediately. _Well, that's a lie. We probably_ could _risk it, I just don't want to._

"Then what d'you suggest we do?" She looked back at him, annoyed that her eyes were refusing to adjust properly to the darkness. _Gonna leave this completely up to you here, Graves. I'm fresh out of 'let's-hide-from-the-Repo-Man' ideas._

He sighed as he glanced around the alley. "Walk that way." He gave her a gentle push in the opposite direction to the street. "I'll follow behind you."

"Behind me? That's a new one." She smirked, but she did as she was told.

"Did no one ever teach you to respect your elders?" He glared at the back of her head as they walked, only half joking.

"You sure as hell didn't." She pointed out, silencing him.


	4. Informal Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 2055: Life throws together the most unlikely kinds of people, sometimes.

_Then._

_February 2055._

She didn't move. He was leaning casually against the side of the dumpster, watching her with a mixture of mild amusement and genuine curiosity. She couldn't blame him for the amusement really - she was well aware of how out of place she was in this part of town.

"C'mon, kid, I'm gonna be here for a while and your story might keep me entertained for a bit." He prompted her with a smirk.

"If it's entertainment you're looking for, then mine would be the wrong story to tell." She allowed her eyes to linger on him as she spoke. Oh, she knew that face. It would have been hard not to recognise him when his face was plastered across GeneCo's wanted posters - which were, in turn, plastered all over the City. _Saved from GeneCo by the infamous GraveRobber, that's possibly the most ironic thing that'll ever happen to me._

"If you won't tell me . . ." The expression on his face didn't change. "Let me try and work it out myself?"

"Knock yourself out." She shrugged, resisting the urge to laugh at the odd turn the conversation had taken.

"Right . . ." He looked at her closely, and she shifted uncomfortably under his inquisitive gaze. "My guess is that your family is pretty well-off, at least by today's standards. You're twenty . . .?" He waited for her to help him out.

"One."

"Twenty-one," He continued with a small nod of thanks. "And there's every chance that the reason you're being chased is that you're Ninety Days Delinquent, have miraculously managed to evade the Repo Men and now they've upped their game in trying to catch you." He knew as well as she did that if a Repo Man was indeed after her, then he would have no trouble in catching her himself. He was being deliberately ridiculous with his suggestions, trying to charm her and get her to tell him her story.

"You were right until you started talking about repossession." She informed him. "I've never had surgery."

 _And it appears that my plan is working._ He thought smugly before he replied. "Oh, really now? You're a rare breed, kid." His surprised tone contained a hint of approval.

"I'm well aware of that." She smiled at him in a self-assured way, also confirming his suspicions about her upbringing - only very few people could carry off that expression if they weren't middle class. It seemed as though his plan had worked a lot faster than he's anticipated, too. She'd definitely relaxed at least a little. "And I'd appreciate it if you called me something other than 'kid'. Twenty-one isn't that young, and I suspect that you're not much older than me anyway."

 _Definitely relaxed. And is it just me, or is she a lot cockier than I thought she was?_ He quite liked it. It was nice to have a conversation with somebody who was as articulate as he was for a change, as opposed to his customers. "All right then, tell me your name."

"Anna."

"Okay then, Anna. Now I know your name, I guess I'll tell you mine." He put unnecessary emphasis on her name, as though to prove to her that he was paying attention. _I'm guessing you already know my name, but I'd better be polite._ "I'm the Graverobber." He held out a hand to her and she shook it.

"Pleased to meet you, _Graverobber_. I think I owe you my freedom - and possibly my life - right now."

"Pleasure is all mine, really." He let go of her hand and leant back against the dumpster, tilting his head back and watching her with what could only be described as a slightly predatory expression on his face. "Normally the girls I _deal_ with are all . . . Well, the girls I deal with. You're a welcome change, Anna."

As though they'd been waiting for their cue, the members of the Zydrate Support Network filed out of their meeting. Anna looked up at them and did nothing to hide her disgust.

"The girls you deal with . . ." She muttered. "I can only imagine."

"Maybe you don't _want_ to imagine it." He replied, watching the door of the building and the people who were exiting it as he pulled the Zydrate Gun from his pocket and held it just so the Network members could see it. "It's a risky thing, being around here. I still don't understand why a girl like you is hanging around graveyards at night." He glanced back at her, the amusement back in his eyes. "Are you _looking_ for trouble?" 

She didn't try to answer him straight away, and by the time she had decided on her reply he'd walked away and become preoccupied with his customers. _Maybe this means it's_ my _turn to observe_ you. She thought, moving over to the dumpster he'd been leaning against only moments ago and pulling herself on to it. It was just dark enough in the alley for her to be in the shadows now that she was sitting there, and it gave her the chance to assess just _what_ she'd got herself into.


	5. Disagreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June 2057: The gruesome aspects of life under GeneCo.

_Now._

_June 2057._

They crept through the alleys of the Estate as silently as possible, keeping to the shadows and away from anyone who may have recognised either of them. Neither of them spoke. The silence and the atmosphere was making Necro nervous, mainly because of where they were. She hated the Estate with a passion - it brought back a lot of bad memories for her. She kept her head down and her eyes trained on the floor. Graverobber, however, kept his head up, his eyes darting around them. He also made sure that she didn't ever get so far ahead of him that he couldn't see her shadowed figure in the darkness. He didn't _think_ that GeneCo's legal assassin was following them, but he didn't want to risk getting caught by him. They turned out of a particularly long street and almost fell over another victim.

"Christ." He looked down at the blood-soaked pavement in disgust. Pretty much everything had been taken from this guy.

"That's disgusting." Unconsciously, she stepped back from the body.

"I'm not gonna argue." He grimaced sympathetically - partly for the now deceased man and partly for Necro and her occasional squeamishness.

"You're dealing with him."

The fact that, despite how gruesome this corpse was, Graverobber was still extracting Zydrate from it might have seemed odd to someone else. But she understood that sometimes you just had to ignore the circumstances and get on with your job. However, there was no way in hell she was touching that body.

He straightened up again, shoving the vial into his pocket and turning back to face her.

"You look as pale as he does." He raised an eyebrow at her. "You know how the world works by now, Ne."

"That's not the point." She glared back at him.

It was one of their regular arguments. She had a higher moral standard –- and a lower tolerance for gore –- than he did, and neither of them would see things from the other's point of view.

But now was not the time for arguing.

There was a shriek of pain from the next street, and both their heads snapped around to look in the direction it had come from.

"That would be our cue to leave." Graverobber grabbed her arm and started walking in the opposite direction. She let him pull her along, putting aside her annoyance and replacing it with that slight pang of fear that she got every time the Repo Man was near.

Their pace increased as they headed towards the edge of the Estate, but their escape was cut short as a figure appeared directly in front of them.

"Fuck." Necro exhaled, feeling Graverobber's grip on her arm tighten.


	6. A Battle of Wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 2055: Philosophising in an alleyway.

_Then._

_February 2055._

By the time that the last of his customers had stumbled away, the Graverobber had more or less become used to working under Anna's watchful gaze. She'd kept quiet, avoiding his customers, but had watched him with something he could best describe as keen interest. He slipped the Zydrate Gun back into his pocked as he wandered over to her.

"Aren't you bored?" He enquired of her, an eyebrow raised.

"It's . . . Been a learning experience." She shrugged, the movement turning into a stretch. It was only then that she realised how cold she was.

"Liar." He smirked broadly as he spoke, finding it somewhat hard to imagine that a girl of her class could find this sort of thing anything but an example of why they should run back to Mommy and Daddy and their money. But, then, she _had_ been wandering around a graveyard.

Anna pulled herself off the dumpster, crossing her arms in front of her in a vain attempt to get warm. "That wasn't a lie. I never realised before tonight just _how_ desperate the general population of this Godforsaken city is."

He hadn't expected that to be her response. "Desperate for what, may I ask?"

"For whatever the Zydrate offers them. Freedom, respite, a chance to feel a little less pain - in any form - for a while. Sex." She shrugged again. "Everyone who you dealt with just now was coming to you for a different reason, even if it all seems the same to you."

A soft snort escaped through his nose, and he shook his head slightly at this odd girl. "Philosophy doesn't really have a place in my line of work, Anna. In fact, philosophy and amateur psychology don't really have a place in the City these days."

"Old habits die hard, I suppose." She replied, quietly and cryptically.

He put it down, initially, as a reference to an education cut short by one of the frequent catastrophes and epidemics that struck their home. It wasn't unheard of for people who _should_ have been able to stay hidden in the higher echelons of society to be found falling from those great heights, left scrounging for a place in the depths of the ravaged City. He could have dismissed her as another of these hopeless cases there and then, but of course, she'd been running from the GENcops, and that _always_ meant the story was something much more interesting than just another lost aristo kid.

"You didn't actually tell me why you were in that graveyard, y'know."

"I'm aware." She regarded him carefully. He might have saved her, but she was pretty sure she shouldn't really trust a graverobber - _the_ Graverobber, no less - any further than she could throw him. And, all things considered, that wouldn't be particularly far at all.

"I'm not gonna play guessing games all night, if that's what you're thinking."

She sighed. "It's not that interesting. I was found where I shouldn't have been, I ran, I thought I'd lost them, I was wrong. Then I ran into you."

It wasn't that interesting. It was, however, a bare-faced lie. She had no problem telling him a basic, believable lie - well, partial truth, in all honesty - but it would make things very difficult for her if she was to go into detail about exactly what she'd been doing to attract the attention of GeneCo's drones.

Graverobber narrowed his eyes at her, but decided not to press her any further. If it happened to get to a point when he needed to know exactly what had been going on, he knew full well that he would have no trouble getting the information out of her. He may have been playing the role of chivalrous rescuer at present, but the minute she looked to be putting him in danger . . . He sighed, moving the bag containing his few remaining vials of Zydrate into a more comfortable position on his shoulder. Chivalrous rescuer, for the time being.

"You're freezing. You got anywhere to stay?" His question was met with a nod. "How far?"

They'd made it from Churchyard Cemetery, which was in the City Centre, through to the Alleys in the Old Town when they were running, Anna knew that much. Depending on how far away Main Street was from this particular Alley . . . "Not far. I'll be fine."

Another, more derisive snort. "After the night you've had? Sorry, but I doubt it. And surely it'd be defeating the point of getting you away from those GENcops if I left you to wander home all alone?"

It wasn't that he cared about her safety, not really. If there was one thing that he hated, it was wasted time, and in his mind bothering to drag her with him when escaping the cemetery would count as just that if he found himself extracting Z from her in a couple of days' time.

"The sceptic in me wonders whether a wanted criminal is a very safe companion." She responded dryly.

"This is the thanks I get for saving your ass?"

"You can't claim to fault my logic."

"Humour me." Graverobber looked her straight in the eyes, in an attempt to convey his seriousness. "Start walking."


	7. Somewhat Misplaced Bravado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graverobber gets out of a potentially sticky situation the best way he knows how.

_Now._

_June 2057._

The second the shadowed figure appeared at the end of their escape route, Graverobber tightened his grip on Ne’s arm. He heard her quite curse, but didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he pulled her against the side of the alleyway, trying to stay in the shadow between a dumpster and the damp brick wall. He had unconsciously positioned himself in front of her, his stance defensive -- protective, almost, if being protective was really his kind of thing (not that he’d ever admit it if it _was_ . . .) -- and didn’t take his eyes off the Repo Man standing ahead of them.

When he spoke to her, his voice was barely a murmur. “If he turns, you run.”

“Graves --”

“No arguing!” He cut off her hissed protest sharply. “Just do as you’re told for once! Run back the way we came, then cut through to the next street and get out of the Estate. You know the way.” 

He felt her hand touch the back of his left shoulder, fingertips pressing slightly harder than they needed to, and knew that meant she’d comply. Even if she didn’t like it, which he knew she didn‘t. He knew -- could _sense_ \-- that they only had a matter of seconds before the leather-clad assassin detected them. Without looking back at her, he spoke just loudly enough so that she’d be able to hear. “Apartment is in the third block on Elton Street. Second floor, fifth door on the left. I’ll meet you there.”

“You better had.” She whispered.

If he’d been a scientific man, he’d have put what happened next down to the fact that Necro’s voice was of a higher pitch than his. That would, of course, imply that GeneCo’s Repo Men had hearing akin to that of a dog, but that would be an insult to the canine species as a whole. He didn’t have time to look for a reason as to why, because the minute the Repo Man turned Graverobber knew that he’d seen the two Zydrate-peddlers. There was something eerie about the way that visor glowed almost the same colour as the Z -- a fact he’d noticed the last time he’d encountered this particular legal assassin, too.

“I’d been wondering when I’d have my next run in with you.” The voice came though as slightly distorted thanks to the helmet. It made the hairs on Graverobber’s neck stand on end, every single time.

“Wish I could say the same.” He addressed him with bravado in his voice, bravado that he couldn’t claim was completely unforced.

“I don’t think alleyways in this part of the City are the best places to dally with your whores, all things -- ah, but no, my mistake.” There was an audible smirk in his voice.

Graverobber knew where this was going, and reached behind him to roughly shove Necro in the direction she needed to run. She didn’t stumble at this sudden jolt, and used the force of his shove as the momentum she needed to start running back down the alley. 

“It’s touching to see that even drug dealers look out for their own kind, Graverobber.”

“Gotta keep our numbers up against the likes of you and the rest of the Largo’s little pawns.” There was a sneer in his voice -- that bravado still there, but it was also a product of his genuine contempt for the man before him.

“I never took you for a man of loyalty.”

“Loyalty has nothing to do with it.” This may or may not have been a lie -- as with his seeming protectiveness over the Necromerchant, he wouldn’t admit any loyalty to her either. Especially not to a Repo Man.

“Lust, then, perhaps.”

Graverobber snorted. “Are we just listing words beginning with “L” that you don’t understand the real meaning of? Because I have a feeling we’ll be here for a while if that’s the case.” When he spoke again his tone was almost one of boredom. “We both know how this goes, Repo: the two of us shoot some verbal bullets at each other, you chase after me, and then I either get the better of you or you get called off on one of those delightful organ-stealing jaunts of yours.”

“You make our encounters sound so boring.”

“I’m tired of this little waltz of ours, what can I say?”

“And I’m sure that has nothing to do with the fact your old partner has returned.”

Graverobber stiffened at this, and barely managed to growl out a response. “She’s gone, now, leave her out of this. It’s between you and I, as always.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain about that if I were you.”

Those words created a heavy silence which, though it lasted only a matter of seconds, did much to heighten the tension between the two men. Graverobber swallowed his irritation and tried to claw back a little of his earlier bravado.

“C’mon, Repo. Let’s just cut this short and go back to the other part of our little routine -- the part where you kill the idiots and give Largo what he wants, and I extract the Zydrate and give the huddled masses what _they_ want.”

“I seem to recall a time when _you_ were one of the idiots.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“And your friend?”

“I though we were leaving her out of this?” Graverobber snarled.

“At the end of the day, Graverobber, you and she are products of this system. As am I, of course. But that doesn’t mean that I have to let you go.”

As the Repo Man moved his leather coat back to reach for a scalpel, Graverobber moved his own tattered coat aside so that he could shove his hands into his pockets. He took a lazy step backwards just as Repo looked likely to take one in the opposite direction, and his scowl turned to a smirk as he saw Repo’s communicator flash.

“That’s my cue to just leave you to it, then?” He asked, suddenly sounding almost cheerful. “I do enjoy our little _chats_ , but looks like duty calls for you, eh?”

Repo glanced up from his communicator, and when he spoke his tone could have almost been classed as one of amusement. “Yes, I suppose I’ll leave you to have a little _chat_ with your friend. I’m sure you both have a lot to catch up on, considering how long she’s been gone.”

The small part of Graverobber’s mind unclouded by bravado (and relief) had a feeling that there was some kind of significant, taunting point that the Repo Man was trying to make at this juncture, but that was a matter for another time. He pulled one of his hands from his pocket and lifted it to mockingly salute the other man. “Then I’ll bid you adieu until next time, Repo.” He smirked, before turning on his heel and striding off down the alley -- only slowing his pace once he was sure he’d heard footsteps from behind, heading further away from him.


End file.
